Hi Lucy! How are you and Pippa? I haven’t seen you two in like ages.
We’re doing just lovely, thank you! We’re going to visit Al tomorrow which should be a fantastic time. How are you?
That’s lovely and I’m fantastic, thanks! Al? As in, the brother that I never hear from? I hope that goes well. Every time I talk to him he’s always busy with work or cooking… any new developments in his life?
Yo.
Hi, Lily!
Hi Lucy! How are you and Pippa? I haven’t seen you two in like ages.
… Fine.
Bronwyn sat still as stone on a park bench and watched people go by. It was a hobby of hers to people-watch. She enjoyed seeing the way humans had evolved over the past 656 years that she had been alive. Each new generation brought a different trait or style with them. It felt like no matter how often she examined people from a distance, it never got boring. Every person was unique and they all reacted differently to the things around them. It was fun to make up little background stories for all of them, too. Sometimes it felt like she was watching her own private play.
Another thing that Bronwyn enjoyed about people-watching was that she could gauge pretty easily how weak or strong someone was. Depending on her mood, the stronger they were, the better. She liked a challenge when she was feeding for the most part. What was the fun in hunting if the victim was easy to take down? But there were also days when she was just too tired to bother and instead she would pick out the weaker ones. It happened to be one of those nights and she was watching carefully for someone who had been running too long and looked ready to pass out or someone who was coming from a long day at work and was barely paying attention to their surroundings because they were too exhausted to.
Bronwyn chewed on her bottom lip. It was a bad habit that she desperately needed to work on before she chewed herself raw. But for some reason, she liked the pain it brought. It was the same sort of satisfying pain as flossing too hard. It felt so wonderful in the most odd way. She released her lip from between her teeth and fought not to pull it back in again. She needed to just stop.
The evening was young and relatively warm for a London day, lacking in the usual cold and greyness that often accompanied life in England. Lily Luna was pleasantly surprised at this shift in the weather, thinking it to be a wonderful development for when summer comes. She ached for nothing more than to dip her feet into the lukewarm pool behind her house, the hot weather, and most of all, the optimism associated with the season. Usually optimism annoyed the hell out of Lily, but she just wanted a positive outlook on the war—if enough people got the idea in their heads that they can beat the opposing side, perhaps it would end quicker.
It was with this (albeit foolish) thought that Lily decided to go out for a walk, scribbling a short note to her parents (lest Harry go all ‘Crazy Auror’ and send out a search party) and grabbing a bag of bread crumbs on the way out. The park was within walking distance, and Lily supposed she would head over there, feed the ducks like she used to back when she was a child, and hopefully attract a man. The first two steps would be easy, the last one though, not so much. You’ve been single since Armani Zabini left school two years ago, Lily, get a grip on yourself. “Shut up,” she muttered out loud, quickly checking to see if anyone had heard her. That would be the last thing she needed, a headline in the Prophet claiming that the youngest Potter had gone mad.
Luckily for her, though, the park was relatively empty except for a few lone people spread out on benches. It was a strange concept, how so many people could be in an area and yet still be lonely. Almost disconcerting for the Potter, whose whole life had been a crowded one, filled with people and conversations and parties. Lily decided to sit next to a young girl by herself on a bench who looked lost, as if she was waiting for somebody. “Hi,” Lily greeted her, lips lifting to a smile as she tossed a breadcrumb to the floor. There were no ducks now but she knew they would come later. “Are you… are you looking for anyone?”
Could you be any gayer, Al? Actually… don’t answer that. Considering that mum mostly orders from Muggle take out places now, you should totes invite your fave baby sister over to your flat.
no, i'm not a potter. i just share their last name, wanker.
twenty years old- twenty first century peter pan
professional badass.
